The Three of UsWe're Family
by Tori101
Summary: Three orphans with problems too confusing for them to understand are adopted into the same home. And through telling their secrets, they form a bond stronger than friendship. But can they open up to others who want to care? ShinnxStellar AuelxMeyrin
1. Auel

**The Three of Us…We're Family…**

Three orphans with problems too confusing for them to understand are adopted into the same home. And through telling their secrets, they form a bond stronger than friendship. But can they open up to others who want to care? ShinnxStellar AuelxMeyrin

**_Disclaimer_**: I don't own Gundam Seed Destiny.

**Note**: This story is an AU and also will soon contain some material that is not suggested to young readers with impressionable minds. Also, the first three chapters are to introduce the characters and their pasts and backgrounds.

**Chapter 1 Auel**

I sat against the stone, my arms wrapped around my legs with my forehead pressed against my knees. My eyes were sore from crying, but all I wanted to do was cry more. My hair fell over my ears, creating an annoying sensation. But instead of doing anything, I just let it sit there. I didn't want to move my arms from their positions. I believed if I moved I would break the thin shred of reality that I clung to desperately. It was all I had now.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. It was cold. I don't remember it being cold outside when I ran out here. I guess I didn't notice the thick, freezing cold rain pouring down from the heavily clouded sky either when I was running from it. I get lost when I run, I become oblivious to everything else. Probably because I like the emptiness of the world running brings me.

When I run…I feel as though I'm racing against the wind. And no matter how hard the wind blows, I still outrun it. But I love the feeling of pureness when I run. Running to match the pounding of my heart; the harder my heart beats, the harder my sneakers hit the pavement. The faster my heart beats, the faster my legs take me. My absolute favorite thing about running is this White Out effect.

The White Out effect makes me feel as though I'm flying over the grass, or pavement, or whatever I'm running on. I really don't care. But when I run for a little while, the corners of my vision begin to whiten. And pretty soon all I see is the path ahead of me and white. It's not an uncomfortable sight; I'm not bothered by it. Whatever it is, it takes me away to a place where I don't think. Where I don't hear, feel, taste, or think. I love the feeling of nothingness, it makes me feel whole. I have no idea how that works, but it does. And then, when I reopen my eyes, I'm in reality, but in a new place than when the White Out effect started.

That's how I found myself here again. At the grave…the grave of my mother. She died only a year ago, but it's felt like an eternity and a half. I never really know why I come here when I run away and the White Out effect takes over, but I'm drawn here.

I lifted my head and hit it softly against the hard, smooth surface of the tombstone. I felt a fresh layer of tears sting my eyes and I felt a chill rush through my body. I shook my head softly and felt freezing cold snowflakes fall from my head, yet still stuck in my hair. I moved a hand up to brush some away, but as my fingers grazed my light blue locks, I couldn't help but remember. Remember how my mother used to stroke my hair ever so softly.

That one memory brought more, and it burned my heart like the flames of a white hot sun. I remembered how she would gaze at me when I played or read my books. That look of pride and bliss, I still remembered how good it made me feel that I put that look on her face. But of all my memories of her, my favorites are the ones when she cheered me on.

My mother was the one who got me into running. She let me come with her on her runs around the neighborhood. She'd always go slowly for me, but then I started racing her. She let me win most of the time, but then, when I'd gotten a bit older and over the stage where I thought I was best at everything I did, she began to get faster. I just always thought she had gotten faster, but boy had I been wrong.

When I turned nine, my mother took me to my school's running track. She asked me to try and jog one lap without stopping or sprinting. I tried my best to listen, and it was agonizing when I was so close to the finish line where my mother stood staring at her watch and I couldn't sprint over there to show her how fast I was.

But it was worth it when I got there to where she awaited me with that proud smile on her face.

"Very good Auel, you listened to me very well," she'd said.

When she told me how fast I'd been, I couldn't help but feel a little boastful of myself. I'd jogged a quarter of a mile in two minutes and three seconds. I asked my mother if I could try running a quarter mile, but she shook her head and told me to try and jog another quarter mile. I'd just sighed and listened to what she had told me.

We did that for a few days, but as the days blew by, she let me go farther, but only jog quickly at most. She never let me run.

I didn't know why till a month later, when she brought me to the track with her with a professional looking stopwatch in her hand.

I still remember that day clearly.

My mother told me to stretch my legs and even did the stretches with me. Then she took me to the track starting line. I thought she wanted me to jog a mile, but she surprised me by handing me the stopwatch and asking me to time her. My mother then leaned down at the starting line like a professional track runner, and jumped forward when I shouted 'GO!'

I watched her shift into a running position, and fly down the track. It was only a few minutes before she'd completed four laps and stopped at the finish line the same time I clicked down the switch on the stopwatch. When I looked down at the time, I couldn't believe my eyes.

My mother walked over to me with a smile on her face. She smiled a bit embarrassedly when she saw the time and when I began to grow ecstatic over it. Not even the fastest boy in my gym class could compete with my mother's time. What surprised me most was when my mother told me to go up to the starting line. She told me she wanted to see me run. Not a quarter of a mile, or half, or even three quarters! She wanted me to run a whole mile! But then I felt a strange feeling inside of me when I heard her next orders.

"I want you to beat my time, if only by a second." she had said. I still remember those moments as if I were watching them now.

Of course, I knew I wouldn't beat that time, but I wanted to try, to make her smile. I heard her shout, 'Go!' and I ran. I was so excited! She was finally letting me run, not jog, run! My fastest too. But around the middle of the second lap, I had a little difficulty catching my breath, and by the third lap, my chest hurt when I heaved it up and down to get air to my lungs.

I'm amazed I finished all four laps at all, but either way, when I walked over to my mother to get my time, I saw a smile. Not her proud smile, a new smile. A smile that seemed to show she was greatly anticipating something. She told me I did a good job, and showed me my time. But when I saw how much more time I had taken than my mother, I kind of felt deflated. But then she laughed and told me not to worry.

Then she began to tell me what I'd done wrong. She told me I needed to pace myself, and breathe through my nose and out my mouth. There were also many other things she told me, and things she said she'd tell me when I was even better. I was kind of disappointed, but eager at the same time. I always did enjoy being with my mother. I was so attached to her, she was my best friend. Maybe that's why it broke my heart so badly, when she died. Maybe that's why it still hurts so much.

But after the running, my mother spent a lot of time with me just running leisurely or training me to become better. I never spent any time with my father. I can't say I even remember him being at the dinner table every night. He was like a stranger, and I always felt awkward around him. I can't say I remember my father spending time with my mother either. And soon I began to hate him. For one thing he yelled at my mother for taking me outside every day when it was nice out to run.

"Running is fun now, but you can't let him drop his studies!" he'd shouted.

My mother had stayed calm through half the argument. But when he began to say how foolish it was to run, my mother became angry. She even slapped my father across the face before storming out of the room. I followed quickly after her, but not until I'd given a glare to my father.

After that, my mother seemed to become more determined to make a great runner out of me, and we spent much more time together. We didn't talk about silly things anymore, but occasionally we'd just sit on the grass with our water bottles and we'd talk about anything, and everything. That was how she told me about her love of running. It started in Junior High on her track team. She said she felt so, perfectly placed, when her legs flew down the track. She told me many deep things, some of which I didn't understand then but do now, and some things I still don't get. But I listened so attentively when she spoke to me.

When she got into High School, she immediately joined the track team. She ran in many races and tournaments, always bringing home medals and ribbons. But she never neglected her studies. She always maintained her A's, and went to all her practices. That didn't leave her much time to be with friends or family even. And because she never really spent much time with her family, and they didn't make any attempts to talk to her because they were always busy with their work, she never found out about the arranged marriage.

She came home from a track meet one day, and her parents were sitting with another couple and a young man at least five years older than her.

My grandmother told her that the family was the Neider family, and the young man was Yuusuke Neider, her future husband. My mother didn't tell me much of what happened after that, but she did tell me how upset she'd felt, and how sullen she was at her wedding because she had to miss a very important track meet that day.

But over time she began to accept my father, and I guess around that time I was born. If anything though, I still don't accept what my grandparents did. But after that, my mother seemed to become more distant about her past, and only focused on me.

I really did like the attention my mother gave me, I never felt lonely. She was always nice and encouraging, she was the best. There was always a warm, kind feeling around her, something telling me I could go to her for anything. It was almost as though my mother and I were connected in a way that we had a special bond. I really don't care about explaining that though, all I know is that I loved her and she loved me back as much as a mother could.

It had never crossed my mind that I might ever go through a time I wouldn't have my mother by my side. The other kids at school would make fun of me whenever we had to do a project on a friend or role model and while they used their own friends or celebrities, I would always talk about my mother. But I didn't care, I didn't need them, I just needed my mother.

But, I soon found out that putting all of my hopes, dreams, and wishes into one person was the worst decision I ever made. It was my last day of middle school, and I'd run home instead of take the bus. I was that excited to tell my mother about my day. But when I opened the door to my house, I heard silence for a few moments, and then I heard a loud sound I'd only heard in movies and some video games I'd played. The sound of a gun shot. It came from the kitchen, followed by a loud, choked out scream.

I knew it was my mother, and without thinking, I rushed towards the kitchen doorway. But I wish just I never had to see anything like that ever in my life.

Blood was pooling on the white tiles of the kitchen floor. I watched the dark red substance grow larger with wide eyes. My hands were trembling, and as I slowly raised my eyes to see the fallen form of my mother lying on the tiles. Her pale hand was clutching her thigh where the blood was pouring out. Her face was contorted in pain. I'd never seen her like this. It scared me out of a heartbeat or three.

I reluctantly raised my eyes higher, to see who now stood over my mother, the black metal gun in his hands, pointing it at my mother's back. It was my father.

"F-father?" I asked so I quietly, I didn't think he heard me.

My mother gasped in pain as she looked my way, the look of terror, pain, and horror etched on her face and shown in her eyes. But those emotions seemed to disappear when she saw me, standing in the doorway with a look of pure terror and shock written on my face.

"Auel…" she whispered through her lips, her voice sad and pained.

And then, my vision blanked, everything turned white. I heard a gun shot, the beginning and quick silence to a final scream, and I finally heard the two thumps as my back pack and mother hit the floor. Then, all I can recall is running, running so fast through white, that I couldn't see anything. I think I tripped over something and hit my head, passing out immediately, because when I regained control of my vision and senses, I was sitting in an opened ambulance with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

Looking around as though in a daze, I remember seeing two cop cars, their red and blue lights flashing, parked in my driveway. I recall someone trying to talk to me, and then a man in a black uniform tried to get me to tell him what I saw, but all I could say when I parted my lips was my mother's name.

The next three days passed by in a daze for me. Our neighbors took me in till the police could get the legal work done concerning me. I wasn't given the exact details, except that my father killed my mother and was going to jail, and that I had no relatives that were willing to take me in. Apparently my mother's sister was too busy traveling in Europe to be a guardian, and my grandparents didn't want anything to do with me from either side. My mother's brother was considered, but he was soon discarded when my appointed attorney discovered he had a criminal record.

So pretty much I was screwed-over.

Having people try to sugar-coat the fact by saying I'd be going into foster care because my family couldn't take care of me was worse than being told flat out no one wanted me. If anything, it was like they were telling you both at once in the worst way possible.

But I never said anything to them except 'Yes' 'No' 'I don't know' and the occasional 'Maybe' Otherwise, I spent my time staring at the wall or out the window.

It was the day the social work came to 'take me away' as some kids refer to it, that I broke out of my trance and ran. I think she tried to follow me, but I was too fast. Eventually, the White Out effect blocked my vision and my directions went on autopilot. It was later when I regained my vision that I realized I'd run to the cemetery where my mother had been buried.

That was when I found her grave and sat beside it, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around my knees. I guess zoned out then, because when I came back to my senses, the rain wasn't hitting me anymore, and there was a jacket around my shoulders.

Looking up, I saw Ms. Clyne, the social worker, standing over me with an umbrella in her hands. She must have placed her jacket around me only a little while ago, there was still a lot of warmth beneath the thick black fabric.

She made no move to speak to me; her eyes were on the grave. I could see mixed emotions in her eyes, and I think I almost saw tears welling up. But with a blink of an eye, they were gone. She replaced her sad look for one of encouragement, and kneeled down in front of me.

I matched her gaze with my own lost gaze, and felt as though a hand of warmth was sitting on my shoulder. I glanced to see my shoulder, and there was Ms. Clyne's hand.

Our gazes met again and the pink haired woman offered me her other hand, her blue eyes locked with my own. We didn't have to exchange words, the woman stood back up and held the umbrella over us.

I turned to face the grave, and let my fingers travel over my mother's name. I tried to picture her in my mind, standing next to me, and I looked up into the sky. I whispered a silent prayer and good-bye before I stood. I turned to face Ms. Clyne, but my eyes widened when I saw my mother behind me, not the woman who'd offered me her jacket. But with a blink, she was gone and it was the pink haired woman before me. She held her hand out, and a hopeful look was on her face.

I eyed her hand as though it would bite me, but then hesitantly reached out to grasp it. The smile on her lips was so gentle and warm, I felt as though my mother was smiling at me again. She then began leading me back to where her car was waiting to take us to wherever we were going.

When we reached it, Ms. Clyne opened the backseat door for me and I stepped in. The door shut behind me, and Ms. Clyne got in on the driver's side. Soon enough were on the road, driving away from my old home, my old neighborhood, my old life. I think Ms. Clyne was trying to talk to me, but I don't think I could have found my voice, or the words, to talk to her.

She seemed to understand though and stopped trying to have a conversation with me. Instead, she reached into a glove compartment during a red light and pulled out a fabric CD case. She handed it to me and asked me to choose whichever one I wanted.

I didn't really care, but while flipping through the plastic pages, I saw on CD I recognized. My mother had the same one, and she liked listening to it. The band was an old one she'd liked as a kid, and she had nearly all of their CDs. But this album was her favorite, which was easy to see by all the scratches on the back of her disk. I liked it as well, even though it was a girl band.

I handed that one to Ms. Clyne, along with the case, and she took them back quickly and popped in the disk. She asked me if there was a certain track I liked, and I told her track two. Those were the only words we exchanged the whole ride.

I was watching the surroundings outside through the window, but I guess I must have been thinking about something else, because one moment we were flying through the highway, and now we were slowly driving through an old neighborhood.

By old though, I don't mean crumbling houses and dying lawns. It was old fashioned. Every house was about bigger than my old home, and they were all Victorian style homes. Some were similar, and some were completely different. All the lawns were well taken care of and spacious, many had either one or two huge trees in the front yard, or had smaller ones that had recently been planted. It looked like one of those picture perfect neighborhoods they showed in magazines.

I didn't know why we were here, Ms. Clyne had said were going to be taking a train to get to the city where my foster home supposedly was, so what were we doing there?

Ms. Clyne told me to wait in the car; she had to go take care of something. I watched her with curious eyes as she walked up to a house next to another house that had a FOR SALE sign in the front yard. I watched her walk up the pathway towards the house and ring the doorbell. An elderly looking woman answered, and I guess they were talking about something important because the cheery smile on the woman's face dropped into a serious frown.

She nodded to Ms. Clyne and turned back into the house. A few minutes later, a girl about my age appeared in the doorway with a suitcase in her hands. Ms. Clyne talked to her, and then to the woman. The woman turned to the girl and embraced her loosely. The girl made no effort to hug her back.

Ms. Clyne put her hand on the girl's shoulder, and led her back to the car. I was confused and curious as to why Ms. Clyne was bringing the girl back towards the car, and I was even more surprised when Ms. Clyne took her suitcase and opened the trunk of the car to put it in with mine. The pink haired woman then opened the back seat door and said,

"Auel, I'd like you to meet Stellar. Stellar, this is Auel," the young woman introduced us before Stellar got in and sat in the seat next to me.

Ms. Clyne smiled and closed the door behind her before getting back in the car.

I couldn't help but stare at the girl sitting next to me. Her hair came down to her shoulders and was a soft looking blonde. Her eyes, which had yet to glance over at me, were a bright magenta color, but they had a dazed look. I recognized that look, in her mind, she was someplace else.

Looking down at her clothing, I saw she was wearing a white and blue dress that hugged her figure snugly. The dress skirt came just barely to her mid-thigh, and the front of it was ruffled and colored a light blue. She also wore knee high, white boots.

I noticed something glimmer on her wrist and when I glanced down, I saw a thin silver chain wrapped around her wrist. There were small, flat triangular charms hanging from the links. In the center of each charm was a small circle of a gem. I looked away and out the window when I felt her gaze drift over to me.

I noticed we were already back on a road leading to the highway. Ms. Clyne began to replay the CD since no one was talking. Maybe, I should have turned to the girl, Stellar, and started talking to her. Or maybe if she tried to talk to me, I might try to talk to her? Probably I'd just ignore her till she stopped trying. I let my gaze return to the window and stared out at the other cars on the highway.

**I think I did a pretty good job on this, nothing too awful or too nice. Though I guess it passed through your minds that Auel's mother might molest him or something…Or maybe that's just me? I dunno, I just hope you enjoyed the first chapter to the new story. Okay, next up is Stellar!**


	2. Stellar

**The Three of Us, We're Family**

Hey! Sorry it took me so long to get motivated to update this. In fact, I'm kinda wanting to update a lot of stuff, but then I never have the time…God, I'm such a lazy procrastinator. Heh, anyway, I really want to thank you all who reviewed, it just put butterflies in my stomach. And even though I'd rather be taking a nap before dinner right now, cuz it's like seven, I'm typing this up. Heh, hope you like.

**Chapter 2 Stellar**

"Why?" I asked myself again, not knowing the answer to my question, and not knowing what I was even asking.

It seemed like I didn't understand what was going on around me a lot lately. I felt, as though I was underwater, and I couldn't move my arms and legs properly. You know the feeling of pressure against you that you get when you're swimming, so you have to push hard against the water to get somewhere? Well, I felt like that nearly all the time, and it scared me. If I can't move my body, I panic sometimes. It's not like I'm claustrophobic or anything like that, but…it's being still and lifeless—like a doll—that scares me.

I don't talk much anymore either, I haven't been able to for a long time now. There was never any use for it, back when _she_ was around. It didn't matter what I said, she didn't listen. He had listened to me, but…I don't want to think about him anymore. Not now, not ever again.

But, even if I say that, promise that to myself, I will remember. I'll remember every night what he would say to me when I cried, when I was hurt. I'll remember what he said to make me happy, and I'll always remember, and no matter how much I hate him, I'll always thank him as well for encouraging me to continue what I love to do…

There was a soft knock on the door, and I lifted my head from the pillow so I could glance towards the doorway. Ms. Marylyn, my neighbor since I was five, stood in the doorway with a large smile on her old face.

"Stellar-Sweetie," she cooed softly in that Grandmother voice of hers, "Lunch is on the table. Come and get it while it's still nice and warm!" she added, leaving the room she'd lent to me to go back downstairs.

I frowned effortlessly, since my lips didn't really move much anymore, and stood from the bed after placing the old, over-stuffed, small pillow back with the others. I'd been clutching it tightly to my chest while thinking, and hadn't even realized it. I guess, I'm not really aware of my surroundings when I'm thinking too hard, but, I guess I have an excuse to be so separated from the present right now.

Though I wasn't hungry in the slightest, I still made my way slowly downstairs to the lunch table that had been set for Ms. Marylyn and me. Looking down at the bowl of soup, and beside the bowl the plate with the fresh looking chicken sandwich, I sighed silently and sat down in the old wooden chair. Ms. Marylyn was across from me, happily gazing at the product of her perfected culinary skills. She glanced over at me and made a motion with her hand, telling me to eat. I looked down at the food, and played with the soup spoon, easily sinking back into my thoughts.

"Stellar, if you finish your lunch, I have a special surprise just for you!" Ms. Marylyn prompted, "I baked a special batch of the sugar cookies that you loved when you were little! Don't you remember them?" she edged on hopefully, hoping that I'd answer her.

But I didn't, I couldn't.

Instead, I looked over at her, my big fuchsia eyes gazing into her baby blue stare, before looking back down into the broth of my soup. I wasn't hungry, not at all. Even though I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, nor any dinner last night, I wasn't hungry. I don't remember the last time I was hungry, or at least I don't think I'm ever hungry anymore. I might be able to get a spoonful or bite of something down, maybe, but when I do eat; my stomach usually forces it back up. I know I'm skinny, too skinny. And I know that some girls at my school thought I was anorexic, because they'd seen me when we were changing for Gym Class. Of course, I would have believed them, too, had it happened to be that I didn't know me like I do.

I have some of the main signs of an anorexic: baggy clothes like big sweatshirts, I don't eat during lunch, and I'm really skinny. But, I don't weaken or tire easily, and I don't barf up whatever I eat. I'm not sure if that's a bulimic symptom, but I don't really care. I had thought I was anorexic at one point, but I've seen the girls in the bathroom after lunch, sticking their fingers in their throats just so they don't get any more fat under their skin. I know what kind of poor girl an anorexic is, and I'm not one of them.

I just don't eat, much anyways.

I started to cut back on what I ate around when I was twelve, because I seemed to always be too upset to eat. And it wasn't tests, or grades, or school, or friends that made me upset. My mother did. I know, it sounds as though I was just some stubbornly defiant child, but that's not it at all. When I was younger, I found something I liked to do very much, and it made me feel so wonderful inside, it felt as though it gave me wings, and I could fly through air and vanish into nothing. Dancing always did, and still does, give me that feeling of disappearing, and I love it.

When I dance, I become so engrossed with it, that even at a young age, I was able to slip off in my own little world where all I did and thought was dancing. I just loved to feel as though with every twirl, I was erasing myself from the world and redrawing myself in my own. It gives me a feeling of happiness, to feel invisible the way I do when I'm dancing, where nothing matters except the way I bend my leg or throw my wrist.

But my mother never saw how I could like it so much, and she looked down on me. No matter how many times we talked, she always seemed to despise any word about my dancing, and would dismiss it in disgust before changing the subject. It's not that my mother was being unrealistic, saying that dancing wasn't a dream a twelve year old girl should still remember from her knee-high years.

It would upset me so much, when she insulted my dancing. But it hurt worse when she would watch a recital and tell me that I did so horribly, or when she wouldn't even show up at all. It was because she was always so cruel and distant with me that made me so upset…so upset, that I just stopped eating.

I guess, I may have thought that maybe, she'd take a notice that what she said was really hurting me, but…she didn't notice. Sort of. After awhile, she stopped setting a place for me at the table, but she still made me wash dishes. When she told me to do a chore was usually the only time she spoke with me levelly.

Of course, I never defied a word she said to me, and did everything she asked of me. Except when she told me to stop dancing, that was the one thing I'd never do for her. She didn't know how much I needed dancing to get through the day, the week, the month, the time. Dancing was the most important thing to me, and she tried to destroy it. But even when I was upset and crying, he was there for me, to pat me on the back and pull me up from the ground. My big brother.

Even when we were little kids, he took care of me. We moved into the old Victorian neighborhood when I was five and my brother was twelve. Our father left our mother a few months after I was born, and we hadn't heard from him since. I know what he looks like, only because Mother told me that I looked like him, and because my brother had shown me a picture when I was eleven.

He did so much for me, my brother. He took me everywhere with him too, even if he was going to hang out with his much older friends. His friends didn't pick on him as much as I was always afraid they were, and they were usually nice to me. There were, of course, the mean tricks they would play when my brother wasn't looking, but he'd always yell at them afterward, even though I never told on them.

When I started dancing in third grade, it was in a dance club that a new teacher had formed for after school. My friends and I joined it, since we were usually bored after school, and also because the teacher was a very nice, and pretty woman. My brother had said he was glad I found something I liked after I told him about my first week of classes, but my mother told me that I shouldn't waste my time. I had told her that I wasn't wasting time dancing, and she'd yelled at me pretty loudly. I didn't even really know why, she just was really mad at me when I said I liked dancing.

It got worse when I was in fifth grade, and Mrs. Honey, the dancing club's teacher, told me to give my mother a letter. In it, Mrs. Honey had asked my mother if she knew how wonderful a dancer I was, and if she'd be interested in signing me up for classes every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday at an actual Dance School for after school. When I showed my mother the letter, she became very angry and ripped it apart, before shouting at me not to show her such foolish garbage again. She'd also slapped me across the face when I tried to say that it wasn't garbage. When I'd gone to school the next day, Mrs. Honey had been anxious to hear my mother's answer. I told her, after some hesitation, that my mother said no. But I asked my teacher if it would be all right if I just came to the lessons to at least watch her. Mrs. Honey had been a little let down about my mother's refusal, but she said it was okay if I still came by to watch.

After school, on the certain days, I'd go to Mrs. Honey's school after the club activities in the school gym, and I'd sit for the near two hours, sometimes more, watching Mrs. Honey teach her students. I was always fascinated with the older girls as they twirled and leapt across the waxed floorboards. It was always so graceful and perfect, even if they sometimes made a mistake.

Sometimes, while walking out of the building to head home, I would try to mimic some things that the girls had done, and though it was sometimes embarrassing, even though no one was usually around to see since I waited so long before going home, I was good at copying some of their movements. What I didn't know, though, was that Mrs. Honey sometimes watched me on my way home through one of the studio windows.

She told me one afternoon before I left, and asked me if I might want to ask my mother again if I could take dance classes. I had told her that my mother would still say no, and if I asked again, she'd probably get mad. Mrs. Honey had seemed a bit saddened again, but she didn't say anything about it.

That night though, I asked my mother during dinner why she didn't like the fact that I liked dancing, and she nearly exploded on me. She was yelling very loudly, and had stood from the table after slamming her palms on the dark surface. I can't even really remember everything that she said, but I do remember something, she'd said something strange. Mother mentioned something about not taking something away from her, but then she seemed to clam up once the words fell from her lips. She'd then glared at me, and looked as though ready to hit me, but then she shouted for me to go to my room.

I ran from the table quickly, and rushed into my room before slamming the door behind me. I remember what she'd said had hurt me a lot, because that was one of the few times I was crying really hard, so hard that there would be moments where I wasn't able to breathe. After awhile though, I had calmed down a little bit, and I wasn't sobbing uncontrollably.

I remember my brother had come to stand outside my door, and ask me to open it. I had told him that it was unlocked, and he walked in quietly before closing the door gently. He then went to sit down beside me against the wall, and pulled me up into his arms. I was just a small, skinny thirteen year old, and he was a strong, twenty year old, and he still watched over me.

My brother, Neo, was already in college with a business major. But he went to a close by school, and wanted to still live at home. He told Mother it was because it would lighten college expenses, but he told me it was because he still wanted to take care of me, and make sure I didn't stop dancing. He really was…the best big brother…

We didn't talk for a really long time, but instead just sat in each other's silence as he tried to make me stop crying. One hand was rubbing my back, and the other was holding my head against his chest. When I stopped crying, he still didn't let go, and instead talked softly to me. He said that he was sorry that he didn't try to stop Mother's shouting this time, but he'd known nothing would have stopped her quick enough without upsetting me. I just nodded, and he continued. He asked me about Mrs. Honey's Ballet School, and if I really liked watching the other girls and what they did. I was a bit surprised, since I hadn't told him about what I did after school, just that I was studying at the school library.

But instead of saying I didn't know what he was talking about, I nodded, and he chuckled. He then told me that, if I promised to work hard, he'd pay for me to take lessons there. I was so surprised and excited; I wasn't able to say anything. I remember how happy I was at that moment, and nothing could have made me happier. Of course, he said we'd have to tell Mother about it eventually, but I was too elated to object. Starting next week, I wouldn't be watching the girls dancing; I would be one of them.

When I told Mrs. Honey that I would, after all, be able to take lessons, she was very happy. She asked me what changed my mother's mind, but I told her that my big brother was going to take care of everything. Nonetheless, she was overjoyed that I'd be taking classes finally, and she said she'd put me right in with the intermediate class to start. She then went on to explain to me that the intermediate class was for students who'd already gone through the basic steps in ballet and what not, and usually someone had to take a year or two to go through the basics. But Mrs. Honey assured me that I'd catch on and it would be easy.

My first class I was there early, after practically sprinting from school. I was that excited. My brother had even bought me what I'd need, and along with that, he bought me a beautiful pair of white ballet slippers. Mrs. Honey was glad that she wouldn't need to go over what we were doing in class for me, since it was these classes I was usually sitting in on and watching. She was also excited to let the other girls know that I'd be joining the class.

The girls seemed happy too, and thought it was cute that a seventh grader was in a predominantly ninth grade class. It didn't bother me though, and I was glad that the girls were nice enough to me.

There were eight girls, nine including me. They all went to my middle school, and I had seen one or two of them in the hallways, or during lunch. Since I started taking ballet classes with them, they even waved or said hello if we ever spotted each other in school. My friends would usually gape and be surprised that older girls were acknowledging me, but it actually embarrassed me when they did that.

On the days I had classes, Neo would always be waiting for me in his car by the time class was over, and he'd drive me home. Sometimes, he even stopped for ice cream, even though by the time we got home, it was nearly dinner time. He was the only one I would at least attempt to eat around. My friends at school asked me at lunch why I didn't eat, but I lied saying I wasn't hungry, and just told them I always had a large breakfast before school. Of course, that wasn't true either, since I didn't really eat breakfast a lot anymore.

But with Neo, it was different. Even though he was always concerned when I didn't eat anything, he would try to tell me I was doing something bad by starving my body, because he knew I wasn't. All he did was ask me gently if I'd at least try to eat something. When he was so gentle with his words at those times, and when he looked as concerned and worried as he did, I couldn't help but try to eat something. Whether it was a piece of bread or even a bite of an apple, he would look so relieved afterward, and even tell me that I was doing well.

I remember how happy he'd been the first time we went for ice cream and I'd eaten over half of my ice cream cone. His eyes had lit up, and his grin was so wide, it looked like he'd seen a little piece of heaven. I also remember how happy that had made me, and how good it made me feel when he exclaimed that he was proud of me. I'd wanted to make him even happier. When we'd gotten home, Mother was already setting the food on the table. I walked over to the cupboard and took out another plate, and had placed small portions of dinner on my plate. Even though I had felt full, and maybe a little dizzy, I still ate everything, and made my brother smile. Mother hadn't noticed.

But after dinner and cleaning the dishes, I started to feel sick. Once I reached the bathroom, I was reacquainting myself with my dinner. Neo came in, and helped me hold back my hair as he rubbed my back. I remember crying, because I was upset that I couldn't eat. I was upset that I couldn't make Neo happy like before. But he tried to cheer me up by telling me that it was just my body reacting to all the food; it hadn't been used to that much food all at once in a long time, and it was just trying to help itself. Even though it made me feel a little better, I didn't stop crying. I was sad, because it was my fault that I wasn't able to eat, which meant it was my fault that I couldn't make Neo smile again. Neo let me sleep in his room that night, since I was still too upset and he didn't want me to be alone in my room.

After that though, I tried to get back into the habit of eating regularly, even if I had such small portions at a time. It left me feeling a little sick sometimes, but I was still okay. Soon enough I could eat my whole dinner, even though the portions were a bit small. Things were really getting better for me; I was going into eighth grade in a few weeks, my classes were going great, I was eating, and my mother didn't yell at me as much since she didn't have reason to now that she didn't know I was dancing. Neo was also happier for me, and was smiling around me a whole lot more lately. I also had a big surprise coming up.

Into my first week of eighth grade, Mrs. Honey asked me if I'd like to move up into her advanced class. It would be a different schedule, and a bit more expensive, but she thought that I'd be too bored with her intermediate class if I continued in the way I did. I told her I'd think about it, but I'd have to ask my brother.

When I did ask Neo, he didn't have to think long before telling me that he would also like me in the advanced class if my teacher said I was ready for it. He couldn't have made me happier than he did at that moment when he agreed to pay for my new lessons. But he said it meant we'd have to tell Mother sooner. I agreed, too absorbed in my happiness to care. Everything was better.

I remember walking through the door the first day of my new class, feeling a bit nervous. The girls from the intermediate class had wished me luck in my last class, and said that they knew I'd be fine. I had been wondering that, until I walked into the studio to come face to face with one of my old friends, Saura. We were both really surprised to see each other, for different reasons though.

Saura and I had been, along with another two friends, the first girls to sign up for the Dancing Club after school with Mrs. Honey. But Saura had stopped coming around the same time that my mother ripped apart the first and only letter from Mrs. Honey. Apparently, Mrs. Honey had given a letter to Saura too, only her mother had been happy to sign her up for classes. She'd progressed since then through the intermediate class, and into the advanced class after about two years. She was surprised to see me, since she didn't really see me very much at school anymore since she left the after-school club, and we never really had any classes together. I was glad to see her, and ecstatic to know that I'd be taking a class with someone I knew as a close friend this time. I thought we'd be able to have more fun, and be able to talk with each other more.

But, I'd thought wrong. Though the classes-like the name suggested-were more difficult, I didn't find them all that taxing. Mrs. Honey even pointed out to me one afternoon that she was amazed at how quickly I seemed to get the correct movements down. And even though Saura was the best girl in the class, which had lessened to only five girls, including me, she always seemed to take it so seriously. I remember how angry she got when one girl made a comment that she seemed to move too stiffly sometimes, and that emotion didn't show on her face as much as audiences liked. I had tried to get Saura to calm down once she started yelling at the poor girl, but then she turned on me and said that I may be a good dancer and catch onto things quick now, but I'd eventually fall back and flat on my face.

I had thought that my friend was just under pressure, and unnerved by constructive criticism, and hadn't paid much attention to it. But, had I only known before, I may not have fallen into such a deep pit of despair. If only I'd known why Saura was so serious and strict all the time when it came to dancing, the thing we'd loved as kids, and the only thing besides my brother that I even bothered to live for anymore.

The truth was, dancing kept me happy, and when I was happy, my brother was happy. When he smiled, I ate, and when I ate, my friends, who grew more and more distant with me lately, seemed to forget about that obstacle, and we treated each other as we had back from before I stopped eating. It seemed that even though I was doing better, even though I was okay, dancing was the only reason why. Dancing was, and still is, the most important thing to me, and my brother was the most important person.

As I went through my eighth grade year at school, and my first year in the advanced class, I spent it studying for school and in practicing my dancing. I practiced so long and hard, and I snuck out of the house whenever I could to walk down to the park so I could practice. Sometimes, just to test myself, I would make up a routine, sometimes easy, sometimes hard, and I would go through it, trying to execute the right move or position each time. I even made a game of it sometimes, like go through once, and go through again in reverse. Or I would take a certain step out and have to remember which one I took out. Neo would sometimes walk with me, and watch me while I practiced with myself. He didn't make me tell Mother yet, and I was hoping that he wouldn't make me. But I knew, the minute he asked me, I would tell her. It would be the least I could do for him since he was the one who'd given me the opportunity to dance.

There hadn't been any recitals for the advanced class, since it usually took two years before Mrs. Honey thought her students would be prepared enough for any performances. But after the first month of ninth grade, Mrs. Honey told the class that she'd planned a recital date for us at the end of the month. It gave us a little more than two weeks to prepare ourselves, and I was really excited. I couldn't wait to formally show my big brother my appreciation and thanks to him for helping me so much.

When I told him about it, he looked happy to see me so happy, and told me he'd make sure that he wouldn't plan anything on that date so he'd be free just for the performance. But, he also told me, that it would be then that I would have to tell Mother about my dancing. He said that I could choose whether or not I wanted to tell her before or after, and I could choose to tell her about all my lessons. I just had to confess to her that I was taking lessons. Neo assured me he'd stand right beside me when I told her, and he'd also stop her from saying anything too hurtful this time. His words had made me feel so safe and secure then, all I could do was cry happily.

Saura seemed to grow even colder towards me, and more determined in her dancing. I too worked a little harder, and Neo even had to tell me a few times to lessen up, or I'd ware myself to the bone. But I persisted, and I eventually found myself able to do any game I could come up with to the routine and I'd still know it in my sleep. When we went out a rehearsal in the studio, I remember Mrs. Honey had even pulled me aside to tell me that she was just simply in awe of how well I seemed to move to the routine.

It was then, the night before the recital, that I told Neo that I wanted to tell Mother about the lessons, all of them, and ask her to please accept that I loved to dance, and nothing could change that. Even though it scared me, I had been set on confessing to my mother, but then Neo surprised me. He told me that he was surprised that I wanted to tell her everything, and even ask her to accept the way I felt. He said that I didn't have to tell her then, if I didn't want to. Though there was a part of me that wanted Mother to know, there was a bigger part of me that didn't want her to know, so I sided with my cowardly side, because I was still afraid of my mother's anger.

After the recital, my brother had been so proud of me, being extra nice and cheerful since he was the only one there for me. Everyone else had their parents there, and some even had their grandparents or aunts and uncles, like Saura. But, even though she had so many people there with her, she still seemed a bit…disappointed I think. I would have asked her about it, but she seemed to be ignoring me, and I didn't know why. Not until nearly five months later when Mrs. Honey told us that there was going to be a competition coming up in two months, and she would choose three girls out of the five of us. We had three weeks before the competition, which gave us three weeks to come up with our own routine that Mrs. Honey would use to determine who went on to the competition, since we would have to create our own routine in the competition. Mrs. Honey needed to make sure that we were not only skilled dancers, but had creative minds as well.

The minute she told us about it, I already had ideas in my head about my own routine. I knew that the competition would be another opportunity to make my brother proud of me, and knew I just had to be one of the three Mrs. Honey picked. That night, I had skipped dinner, even though Neo had been a bit concerned, but I assured him it was nothing. I wanted to go to bed early that night so I could brainstorm a routine some more. I wanted to already have a rough idea by morning of what my routine would be like.

For the new thee weeks, I worked diligently and persistently at my routine, and sometimes I even added or took away something, just because I thought it wouldn't flow right. I do remember my main inspiration had been water, and having my body move through the steps in a fluid-like motion. Neo seemed to be a little worried that I was pushing myself too hard, but I assured him I was fine. And it was true, I really was. I was just so happy and pleased with myself, and I took such pride in knowing how hard I worked on my routine. I just knew Mrs. Honey would have to pick me for the competition.

When it came time to present our routines, the way Mrs. Honey organized it was that I would go last. I had wanted to go sometime in the beginning, because I was nearly shaking with the anxiousness to get it done already. Not that I didn't want to do it, it was that I wanted to do it so badly. Saura was before me, and I watched her carefully. She did have a really good routine, but I noticed that what the other girl had said so long ago was true: Even though Saura was a very, very good dancer, the way she moved seemed a bit mechanical. She was still graceful, and someone who didn't watch dancing as much or as long as I had wouldn't notice it in the slightest, but it was there.

When it came my turn, I remember hurrying forward to the center of the studio, and waiting for Mrs. Honey to tell me to begin. But, though I had been nearly shaking with excitement before, as soon as Mrs. Honey asked me to start, it felt like everything around me slowed down. I started my routine that I'd practiced for so long, and I remember moving slowly at first, just as I planned and during a certain step, I began to quicken. After a good four minutes, I did my final spin, and came to a slow stop facing my small audience.

Mrs. Honey was at a loss for words, and at first, I'd thought she didn't like it. But then a girl who I'd gotten to know very well through lessons started clapping for me. She'd also had a very good routine, and she wasn't as good as Saura, but she was good. Mrs. Honey also began clapping, and I felt relieved. We then spent the rest of class socializing and dancing for fun while Mrs. Honey looked through the notes she'd taken about us during our routines. She would tell us who made it at the end of class.

Saura hadn't wanted to talk to us afterward, and had gone off to another side of the room and stretched her legs and arms. The other girls and I were discussing our routines, and giving compliments and constructive criticisms. The girl who I'd gotten to know, Naomi, told me that she sometimes saw my feet take an extra step during some steps she knew of that I used, and I told her that I'd seen her balance waver a bit during her routine. The other two girls also had things to say, but Naomi's comment was the only one for my routine besides compliments.

At the end of class, Mrs. Honey called for our attention, and said she was ready to make her announcements. We gathered around her excitedly, and she told us she was sorry that there weren't five openings in the competition for her to fill, and that she was proud of all of our routines. But then she told us who was going to the competition. Saura's name was first, but it was no surprise. Then Mrs. Honey said that Naomi was going through as well. Saura had nodded to her when her name was said, and Naomi gave me a grin. I remember looking over at Saura, and watching her smirk fall when Mrs. Honey announced my name.

Saura had actually seemed upset, and had even asked Mrs. Honey why she thought I was ready for a competition. Everyone looked surprised, but I felt a little hurt. I didn't know why my friend would say something like that. Saura argued that I hadn't been taking classes nearly as long as her, and I couldn't possibly be ready for something like a competition. But Mrs. Honey said that she thought I'd be just fine, and that she didn't want Saura to question her decisions. As we were leaving the studio to be picked up by our parents, or in my case, my brother, the other two girls congratulated us, and said they were glad we got to go. Saura just narrowed her eyes and walked away.

Naomi wanted to wait with me, and we talked while sitting on a bench near the road. We watched the passing cars, wondering which one would be my brother or her mother. As we talked, Naomi made a comment about Saura seeming to hate me. I had told her that was crazy, since me and Saura had been friends since we were in elementary school. But Naomi wasn't convinced; she seemed a little concerned actually. She then told me, that she thought Saura was jealous of me.

I had seen no reason why she'd have to be jealous of me, and when I told this to Naomi, she'd laughed. She told me was a little surprised by how much faith I didn't have in myself, and how much I put in a friend who seemed to despise me. Naomi said that Saura was probably feeling threatened by me. Threatened by how my talents for dancing seemed to help me progress faster. Not to mention I was really good at it, too. Naomi told me that the first time she saw me dance; she'd noticed how natural I seemed to look while dancing. She said she'd also been surprised with how quickly I caught onto what they'd been working on for a week, and how I got it down in a matter of minutes.

"Saura is jealous of you. She doesn't like not being the center of attention, and she doesn't like that someone who hasn't been working as long as her is getting something so easily and quickly. She feels as though her position is being threatened by you." were Naomi's exact words.

Her mother's car had pulled up then, and she stood to leave with her bag. As she walked to her mother's car, she turned and waved good bye to me, and gave me another congratulations. I watched her they drove away, and almost didn't notice my brother's car pull up. But once he was there, I was excited again, and nearly fell over in my hurry over to his car. He laughed as I slid in the front seat, saying he didn't know clumsy ballerinas existed. I had just waved off his joke and handed him the piece of paper about the competition Mrs. Honey had told us to give to our parents.

Neo read over it in a few minutes, and smiled over at me when he was done. He told me that he couldn't wait to see me perform at a competition, and he said he'd take me to dinner tomorrow night to celebrate. I remember asking him if I had to tell mother, and he said I didn't have to. I was relieved, and we went out for ice cream before dinner like usual.

I was really happy, happier than I remember being in a long time. Neo was also a lot happier, and Mother even asked him why we both seemed to be smiling as we chewed our dinner. I had nearly doubled the portions of my dinner, and that had seemed to make Neo so much happier. She seemed to be a little curious as to why I was eating so well now, but she never said anything.

She'd been very busy lately as well. She worked at an office firm an hour's drive away in good traffic, and there was something big going on next weekend, and she'd be gone. She told Neo about it as I was doing the dishes, and I nearly dropped a plate. Next weekend was the competition, and I'd forgotten that it was in the next city over. Neo and I would have to stay overnight in the city. I hadn't even thought about Mother. But the way Neo seemed to grow interested, I knew he hadn't forgotten. The two talked some more about how Neo would have to watch me, and make sure that I studied over the weekend and didn't fool around with any of my "foolish dancing". She'd known, then, about my sneaking out of the house to go to the park to dance. But Neo promised her he'd make sure I worked hard, and that he wouldn't let Mother down.

When she'd gone to her office to do some work she'd promised her boss she'd finish at home, Neo had took me outside to sit on the porch with him. He talked to me quietly about the plans he'd made for our trip next weekend, and I was really happy. He said that we'd leave Friday night so we'd be in Corpus City by Saturday morning. Then we'd be there in time for the Competition Advisors to tell the dancers about the competition, and then the competition would be Sunday afternoon. After the competition, we would drive home, and be there by the time Mother returned. His plan seemed perfect, and I asked him if he'd have to miss any of his classes. He told me he didn't have any classes, and that he had a whole two weeks before he had anymore classes to attend. That helped relax me, and I was able to focus only on the upcoming competition.

School seemed to pass by quickly, along with the dance lessons after it. Mother seemed to notice how happy I was, and asked me if something at school was going on, and I told her I was just happy. She seemed to be a bit suspicious, but didn't say anymore about it. Friday approached too slowly though, and it almost took forever for my mother to get out the door. Once she was gone, Neo and I hastily packed two suitcases, and after making sure we didn't forget anything, we hurried out the door and into Neo's care before heading out of our old fashioned neighborhood to Corpus City.

Neo told me too sleep during the drive, but I wanted to stay up with him. I was also too excited to sleep. But within the first hour on the road, I couldn't keep my eyes open. When I woke up, Neo was shaking me awake and I looked out the window to see we were at the hotel where the competition was being held. It was like a second wind, and I was jumping out of the car energized and ready to move. But surprisingly, after we carried our suit cases to the room, I was ready to collapse onto one of the soft looking beds in the large room.

Neo had chuckled and asked me if I was finally running out of batteries. But I just laughed at his joke and claimed one of the beds as my own. I needed to make sure I was well rested, even though I'd gotten about three hours of sleep in the car.

The next morning, Neo woke me up, and I took a shower before we headed down to the opening ceremony where we'd get breakfast while the Competition Advisors told us about the competition and whatnot. Once we were there, we looked around for Mrs. Honey, who was already with Naomi and her parents. She introduced them to us, and I introduced my big brother. Mrs. Honey nodded along through the introductions, but seemed to be looking around for someone. She was looking for Saura, because she hadn't come to meet up with them yet with her parents. They'd called her last night, to let her know they were there, but she still hadn't seen them. She was hoping to keep her group together, but she wouldn't be able too.

After we'd gotten breakfast, Mrs. Honey took us to the Assembly Hall where we would be meeting the Competition Advisors. It didn't take long before the hall was filled, and the advisors began talking to us. They thanked us for coming, and told us how the competition had been going on for seven years, and some other facts about it. They then explained the rules for this year, and about how each dancer had to come up with her own routine tonight after being given a song piece that they'd give us after the meeting. Then tomorrow, we'd dance our routines in front of the audience, and the judges would decide the winners based on creativity and skill.

Once they were done with the speech, they wished us luck and the dancers hurried over to the table where they were handing out the music on discs. Naomi and I didn't hurry, since it was completely randomized anyway, and we were near last in line. We had spotted Saura near the front of the line, and she walked passed us with her CD case clutched tightly in her hand. When Naomi and I got our own CDs, we wished each other luck and returned to our rooms. Neo had told me that he had a friend in Corpus City, and he'd leave the room to me while he was gone, and he said he'd be back before nine.

I listened to the CD in the large stereo provided in the room, and after I first listened to the track, I was nearly ecstatic. The music was a soft mixture of violins, and I could hear a background of piano. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture something in my mind to match the music, and tried to put a little sadness in it, since the music seemed a little sad. What I pictured made my heart soar. I had imagined a small shell on a lonely coastline, and the rising tides swept it under the waves, where the shell continued to twirl helplessly in the grasp of the currents underwater, all the while slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

When the music finished, I restarted the track, and began to move softly to the music. I moved slowly, and used my arms just as much as my legs. I had to restart the track over and over, so I could put the steps I was using together correctly, and soon enough, I nearly had my routine all worked out. I then worked on it till it was engraved in my mind and body, before I added some steps and took away others. I made the music start in the middle, and waited a few seconds of listening before I started my dance where the music was. I found that it came to me easily, and I had no problems.

I wanted to try and take a break and maybe relax, and since the sun was starting to go down, I could try to take a walk along the pier. Corpus City had a very popular beach, and the pier was filled with all different kinds of shops. I had wanted to see it ever since my friend came back from a vacation here last year, and I thought then would be my chance. Neo wouldn't be back for another four hours, so I had time to look around. I left a quick note on the nightstand between the two beds, and grabbed my room key and stuck it in my purse before leaving the room, and then the hotel.

The pier was only a few blocks from the hotel, and walking their was still beautiful. The way I was going, I was walking on a foot-road alongside the ocean, which shimmered golden in the rays of the setting sun. By the time I reach the pier, the sky had darkened to a midnight fuchsia and the ocean water was ablaze with the light from the twilight and the lanterns along the pier. The pier itself was so lively and brightly lit, and everyone there looked so cheerful.

Just looking around was enough to make me feel excited and delighted again, just like the night when Neo had agreed to let me go to this competition. I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn't realized that I'd wandered near an area of the pier where a large group of people had gathered. When I stopped, I looked over and listened, hearing music playing. A band, probably a local one, was playing loudly and lively in the center of the large crowd.

I guess I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing, and I had started dancing the dance I had worked on hours ago. But this one was faster paced and I added a few different steps to it. I was so unaware of the people around me, and the attention I was bringing myself by dancing as I walked past, all I thought about was the happy feeling I was feeling in my chest. I never bumped into anyone, miraculously, as I danced, but I didn't necessarily notice them either. I heard some of them laughing, and also talking to each other when I passed by, but it was never anything mean, from what I remember hearing anyway. Nothing could have brought me down at that moment, except for when I crashed into someone's chest.

When I had looked up though, it was my big brother with a very amused look on his face. I remember he'd shaken his head playfully as he wondered aloud what exactly went through a ballerina's head when they danced. I had been embarrassed, and even playfully punch him in the arm. Of course, it didn't even move him an inch of course, since he was so much stronger than my fifteen year old body, but only made him laugh even more.

When I'd asked him how he found me, he told me that he'd been walking around the pier with his friend and some others when they'd notice me walk, well, dance by. My brother told me that he said good bye to them, and that he had to go make a ballerina stop spinning before she fell off the pier. That made me laugh, and we walked back to the hotel.

Once we got back, it was already ten thirty, and my brother said he'd like to see my routine that I'd come up with. So once we got back to the room, I turned on the music, and went through my routine again, executing it perfectly for my brother. When I was done, he said I did beautifully. He then kissed me on my forehead and told me to get to sleep, that I'd need to be well rested for the competition tomorrow. I fell asleep quickly, even though I was nearly shaking again from excitement.

The next morning, I was awake before my brother, and I was already showered and dressed by the time he woke up. He was surprised to see me all ready, and I waited for him to finished his shower and get dressed, listening to the CD and going over my routine in my head. I was also taking that time to brush my hair. I had wanted to do something other than just a simple bun for the competition, but I wasn't sure what I'd do with it.

When my brother walked out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, he asked me if I needed help with my hair. I nodded, and he walked over and stared at my hair for a few moments, before he picked up the white ribbon beside my hand, and used it to tie up my hair after a few moments of twisting it in different ways. When he was done, I walked into the bathroom, and looked over what he'd done. What I saw made me smile, and I gently brushed the few strands of hair falling in front of my ears and at the back of my neck where a loose yet still firm bun was tied out of my light blonde hair. It was much better than just tying my hair up into a plain bun.

We hurried down to the Assembly hall afterward, which had been converted into a stage for the dancing acts, and I headed towards where Mrs. Honey had wanted to meet us before the competition. Naomi and Saura surprisingly were waiting for me, and my brother said he was going to go find a good seat. Mrs. Honey took our CDs so she could give them to the stereo manager when our turn came up, and she wished us the best of luck. When we were done talking, we headed towards the bulletin board that listed our names and times. Naomi would be going directly before Saura, and it took me a little extra time to find my name, which was nearly last on the list. There would be three girls after me, and then it would be over.

Naomi and I sat together in the audience with the other girls who were waiting for their turns. Saura had gone to sit away from us. Naomi looked a little nervous, and she was clutching my hand tightly as it neared her turn. When her name was called, I told her she'd do great and wished her luck. She went up and danced her routine to a moderately fast paced music piece, and I thought she did very well, even though it looked like she nearly lost her balance once on a particularly tough looking step.

Saura was next, and I was really eager to see what kind of routine she had planned. Her music started off fairly slow, and her movements were well measured and graceful. As the music wore on, it became faster and so did her movements. But then the music began to slow, and she slowed as well. Soon enough, one could have easily been able to tell that the music was going to end in a few measures. Only, just before the music ended, Saura slipped a little on the floor, and she wavered visibly.

After she was done, and she walked off the stage, I could see how shocked she looked. She almost looked as though she'd down something terribly wrong, the way she was sulking in the back of the audience. But I turned around after I saw her send a glare my way, and I continued watching the routines, counting down to my own. Soon enough, the girl before me went, and then my name was called. I stood excitedly, and walked towards the stage, taking deep breathes to keep myself from running up. But as I stepped up the steps and walked to center stage as we were instructed, I looked over towards where the music would be coming from, and thought I saw Saura walking away from the stereo system area.

But I pushed it out of my mind, and waited for the one of the judges to say begin, before I heard my CD start, and my body started moving to the music. I progressed through my routine as I'd planned, nice and slowly to match my movements to the music. But as the first minute of four passed, I noticed that the music of my CD seemed to be weakening, and becoming quieter. When then music began to die down, I made it look as though it was part of my routine and moved my body even slower so it froze when the music stopped for a split second. After that half a second, I heard a clicking noise, and then different music that I hadn't heard on my CD at all began to play.

I remember my heart sinking and feeling as though the wind was knocked out of me, till I felt my body begin to move seemingly on its own to match with the music. I had never heard the music before, but the way I was dancing, it felt as though my body had danced to the music before. It wasn't till a few more seconds that I realized that I was using mainly the same steps I'd used last night when I was dancing my routine to the lively music on the pier the other night.

Using that to my advantage, I tried to remember the steps I'd used then, and the way I'd inverted some of the moves in my original routine to match the music on the pier last night, and I just let it take over my body. Soon enough, I heard the music coming to an end, and thought back to a creative way to end my new routine. As the last chord of a guitar was struck, I lifted one arm, and raised my leg a bit closer to my body to put a slight movement to my final spin.

I remember when I was done; the whole audience was applauding me, not noticing anything odd about my performance. But I searched out for my brother, and when our eyes locked, I could tell he was surprised and looked a bit confused but still proud. He grinned at me, and I smiled back. When I walked off the stage, the next girl's name had been called and she was hurrying towards the stage. When we passed by, I smiled to her, and she nodded back.

Making it back to my seat, Naomi was staring at me as though I was crazy. She asked me if I was, too. She also began animatedly whispering about how she'd never expected that routine from me. She even asked me if I had two routines or something. When I tried to answer, she told me on second thought not to answer because it was a secret. I tried to tell her it wasn't, but she just smiled and shook her head. We then watched the last three dancers in silence.

When all the competitors were done with their routines, one of the judges walked on stage with an envelope in her hands. She thanked everyone for coming to the competition, and that the judges were happy to get such creative talent this year. She then went on to say that they were sorry they couldn't pick more than three winners, but sadly that was the limit. It had been a hard choice, and they'd chosen the three girls whose names were on a paper in the envelope.

The judge then opened the envelope, and held up the paper. She announced that in third place, was a girl I recognized after she stepped up on stage as one of the earlier performances. The judge then went on about how it had been a close race for second place, and announced that Saura Takeshi had won second place. I remember applauding loudly for Saura as she walked towards the stage, but I remember seeing the dumbfounded look on her face. It wasn't the happily surprised look either, more like the incredulous face of horror. The judge then waited for the applause to die down for Saura before announcing the first place winner.

The judge had said that the first place winner had been an obvious choice to the judges after seeing her routine, and that they were all amazed at the talent she had displayed for her routine. I would have stayed rooted in my seat had Naomi not pushed me out of it when the judge called my name. The walk up to the stage was like walking in a dream, and the applause was almost deafening. When I reached the stage, the woman shook my hand, and stood me between Saura and the other girl. I was more than spellbound, and I think my eyes said it because the judge had chuckled when she saw my face.

She even went on to tell the audience how my routine had somehow been tampered with, and when the music continued after my pause, my routine had been completely off the top of my head. I remember feeling kind of embarrassed from the applause and attention that brought me, but when I looked over to Saura, she looked kind of…angry. Naomi's words from last week were drifting through my head, but I didn't want to believe that about Saura.

After the judge gave us our plaques for placing in the competition, I walked down from the stage to find my brother. I didn't see him in the crowd, so I walked out of the Assembly Hall, and turned down the hallway. I didn't know why, but I thought he might be there, since it led out of the hotel to a beachfront garden, and I just assumed Neo had gone in that direction to get away from all the noise.

I had guessed right, because he was standing in front of one of the windows that overlooked the garden. I called out his name as I walked closer, but he didn't turn towards me till I was next to him. He smiled gently, and his eyes gazed at me in a soft way. When I showed him my prize for winning first place, he merely glanced at it before leaning down slowly till our faces were almost touching. I didn't know what he was doing, till his lips were on mine, and his arms were around me.

At that moment, my body had just…frozen…and I couldn't move or make a sound. It was only after a few more moments that Neo pulled away from me, and whispered congratulations to me. He then removed his arms from my body, and began to walk away. He said he was heading up to the room to start packing for the return trip home. We'd have to leave early now to get home before Mother discovered we were gone since traffic was going to be a littler thicker than he'd thought. I was too confused and surprised to say anything back, and I watched even after he walked around the corner.

"Stellar, dear…Aren't you hungry?" Ms. Marylyn asked curiously.

When I looked up, breaking out of my thoughts, I glanced from her worried face down to my untouched lunch. The soup wasn't steaming anymore, and the broth had formed a film over the vegetables and chicken pieces.

No. I wasn't hungry.

Shaking my head, I pushed my chair back and stood. Ms. Marylyn didn't say anything afterward, and I turned around and slowly walked back towards the stairway to head back upstairs. I didn't want to stay in this house anymore, I didn't want Ms. Marylyn worrying about me anymore, and I didn't want to remember everything that had happened before ten grade began a few weeks ago.

Reaching the room I was currently staying in, I sat back down on the bed, and fell over on my side. My white and blue dress slid up my leg a bit, but I didn't try to fix it, I didn't feel like moving anymore. And that scared me, because at the same time, all I wanted to do was dance. My legs were stiff from not moving in so long, and my eyes began to sting, as I remembered the last time I danced, so long yet such a short time ago.

After Neo had driven us home, I still hadn't said a word to him at all since the kiss in the hallway back at the hotel in Corpus City. I couldn't bring myself to ask him why, and I couldn't say anything to him at all. He offered to take my suitcase to my room, but I shook my head, and carried it there myself. I put my clothes away, and I hid the plaque in my dresser underneath a sweater.

When I was done, I decided that I wanted to take a shower. It was still early, only about five thirty in the afternoon. Mother wouldn't be home till eight or nine, so I didn't have to worry about taking too long in the shower. I took my towels with me to the bathroom across the hallway from my bedroom, and I closed the door before setting my towels on the counter and turning the water on hot. I remember it so clearly, even though I wish I could forget it entirely.

When there was steam filling the room and clouding up the mirror, I slipped my dress off, and the rest of my clothes. Before I was about to step into the shower, the bathroom door opened, and my brother stood in the doorway, not at all caring what my state of dress was. I had reached over and grabbed one of the two towels I'd brought in, and tried to cover myself with it, before yelling at him to get out. There was no reason he had to be in there, and no reason that he should have been in the bathroom at that moment. But when he started walking into the room, I noticed he looked like he was mad. I started backing up, and I didn't notice my dress on the floor before I stepped on it, and slid before falling backwards. I only remember falling to the bathroom floor before there was a pain in the back of my head, and I saw stars before everything around me grew dark.

I remember that when I'd woken up, I was in a lot of pain, in two different places. My head felt so heavy, and just opening my eyes had increased my headache tenfold. But also, I found that the most pain was down, and in between my legs. When I had tried to move, I noticed that I was in my brother's bed, and the last place I remembered being was in the bathroom, about to take my shower.

At that moment, the door to my brother's bathroom opened, and my brother walked out, drying his long blonde hair with a towel, while another towel was tied around his waist. When he noticed I was awake, the look on his face made me flinch. His lips were pulled into a smirk that I'd never seen on him before, and his eyes looked much colder. He looked so different, and it was almost scary.

He looked over my confused and pained expression, and walked over to his dresser as though my naked body in his bed was natural. He opened one of the dresser drawers as I sat up in his bed after moving the covers away from my body, and when I looked down, my eyes widened in horror and confusion. I heard Neo call over to me that I should clean myself up since Mother would be home in an hour, and he had to put his sheets in the wash.

All over the insides of my thighs was blood, and when I looked down at the sheets near where I'd been laying, there was a large spot of blood in the bed. I had stood up in a rush and hurried out of his room, crying uncontrollably but silently.

I ran to the bathroom in the hallway across from my room, and locked the door that time, before I tried to stop myself from choking on my tears. I stopped just long enough to turn the shower back on, and then I stepped inside before the steam could cloud up the mirror. It was then that I sunk down to my knees, in burning hot water, and my sobs became audible. I stayed in there for a really long time, not even moving from my spot. But when the shower water turned cold, I just turned the water off.

I brought my legs up to my chest, and had locked my arms around my knees as I sat in a corner of the shower. I heard when my Mother came home, and asked Neo where I was. I heard him tell her I was in the bathroom, taking a shower. I also heard him tell her he'd made dinner, but when Mother asked him if I'd be joining them, he told her that I'd told him I wasn't hungry.

I stayed in the bathroom shower all night, never leaving to go to my room. Even though I was cold, I didn't care. I didn't want to leave the bathroom; I didn't want to see my brother again, never. I don't remember if I ever went to sleep or not, but it didn't matter to me, either. I would have tried to stay in the bathroom forever, if Neo hadn't knocked on the bathroom door and told me I had to get ready for school.

I remember feeling like crying again, but I pushed away the tears and I left the shower. I did have to go to school, because if I didn't, he would probably be mad at me, and then Mother would be mad, and he might even tell her about my dancing, and then she would probably be mad enough to kill me.

So I sneaked into my room and got dressed quickly before slipping out of my room with my backpack in hand. I passed the kitchen, not even looking over to say goodbye to my mother. She didn't stop me from leaving though, and I think she didn't even look over at me, because if she had, even she would ask me why I was crying so early in the morning. Or she would have at least asked me why I seemed to be walking strange.

I thought that if I could get to school, I could find Naomi, or Mrs. Honey, and at least tell them what happened, or something. I just wanted to tell one of them, and I wanted them to take the pain I was feeling away. But, once I reached school, I immediately knew something was wrong. It seemed, everyone was staring at me the minute I walked through the school gates.

They also seemed to be whispering to each other whenever I passed by while trying to get to my locker. I didn't know what was going on, till I reached my locker. I froze two feet away from it; I remember feeling my heart begin to pound in my chest. There, taped on my locker, was a paper with a picture of when my brother kissed me back in Corpus City. Underneath the picture, written in permanent marker, my name was written, and underneath it someone had written 'Whore'.

I walked towards my locker, and ripped the paper slowly from my locker, before holding it in both hands and staring at it. I heard the whispers behind me stop, and I turned around, tears already falling from my eyes, to see Saura standing only a few feet away. She had an angry frown on her face, and in her hands was a neat stack of papers similar to the ones I was holding. Behind her stood Naomi, looking around at everyone, me, and the paper in her hands with such confusion on her face.

"W-why?" I remember asking Saura, so quietly, I was surprised she'd heard me.

Her answer wrung in my ears, echoing and repeating over and over.

"Because," she said smugly, holding up one of the papers and gazing at it, "You don't deserve what everything thinks makes you special. You didn't work hard at all, and I told you that you would fall on your face. You can blame yourself for this, because it was your fault from the beginning."

I remember running then, running away from everyone's eyes and Saura's smirk. Away from everyone's whispers, and away from the hurt and betrayed look on Naomi's face.

I hid in the girl's bathroom in the eighth grade hall the rest of the day. No eighth grade girl would ask a ninth grader why she was sobbing in their bathroom, and they wouldn't tell their teachers either. I remember waiting nearly an hour after school was over before leaving the sanctity of the bathroom stall, and leaving the school. The whole day, Saura's words had been stuck in my head. If it was all my fault, no, it was all my fault, so…I had to stop dancing. I had made the decision on my way home, and I was planning to tell my mother about the lessons and everything, but I wouldn't tell her about what Neo did. I couldn't…I couldn't even say it to myself.

But, when I opened the front door to my home, I noticed another pair of shoes next to the door, and when I closed the door, I heard someone talking in the kitchen. I dropped my backpack to the floor, and walked slowly towards the kitchen doorway. Once I reached it, I felt my heart stop. Saura was sitting at the kitchen table with my mother, and in her hands was the sheet of paper Saura had been handing out at school.

My mother dropped the water glass she'd been holding, and I flinched when it crashed to the floor.

Saura turned to glance at me over her shoulder, and I felt my heart break from the look of satisfaction in her eyes. My mother looked up from the paper, and saw me in the doorway. The look in her eyes was animalistic, and it scared me. Saura gracefully pushed the chair out from the table, and stood before brushing imaginary dust from her skirt.

"I'm sorry Ms. Loussier, for telling you about this. But a girl from our ballet class, Naomi Kurosaki, was passing these out from a ballet competition that took place yesterday and Saturday. I just thought you might want to know, since you hadn't been able to go." Were the words from Saura's lips as she began to walk out of the kitchen. As she passed me, she had an innocent look on her face, and she said she hoped she'd see me in class tomorrow after school.

My mother didn't move till after the front door was closed. And when she did, I was too shocked to have done anything. I felt her push me against the wall, and hold me there as she yelled at me. It hurt a lot, and with each push, my head banged against the wall.

"Why!? WHY!?" she'd screamed at me. "Why would you do something like this, why would you do this to me!?" She continued to scream at me, and after her voice began to fade, she just continued to shake me and push me up against the wall.

After a few more minutes, she began to cry, and I was able to push her off of me. She fell to her knees, and I ran out of the kitchen. I didn't want to stay in the house any more, and I ran out the door. Even though it hurt, I just kept on running. My legs may have been strong, but I was tired and in pain, and my legs weren't for running. I fell over at least five times, but I made myself get up, and keep running.

I didn't stop till I reached Mrs. Honey's Ballet School, and even then, I still ran into the building. I knew she was in the middle of a class, and she'd be made that I interrupted, but I had to talk to her. I opened the first door, and ran through the building till I came to the door that led to the children's studio where I knew she was teaching today. I nearly broke the old wood door ramming into it, and I'm sure I must've scared some of the girls in her class, too.

When the door was open, I stood in the doorway, a sight for sore eyes. My knees, elbows, and hands were bloody and scraped, and I'd been crying the entire time as well. Yeah, definitely a sight for sore eyes.

Mrs. Honey looked surprised, then shocked to see me. She asked me what was wrong, and I couldn't form my words right. But after a few seconds, I finally choked out that I couldn't take lessons anymore. But, then I broke down crying and Mrs. Honey asked me why and what was wrong again. I didn't answer, just fell to my knees. She told the kids, who were nearly freaking out, to go and play while she talked to me in her office.

After that, Mrs. Honey took me into her office, and sat me down in her chair before asking me what was wrong. It took awhile, but I finally told her everything, including what my brother had done to me last night, and what my mother did before I came here. When I was done, Mrs. Honey tried to get me to stop crying, and said she was sorry. I didn't know why she was sorry, because I was still stuck in Saura's illusion that everything was my fault.

But after that, Mrs. Honey called the police. They came to the studio, and asked me to tell them what I told Mrs. Honey. Then, they took me to the station and Mrs. Honey came with me after calling her husband and telling him the situation. He was a lawyer, and she told me that he could help me get my brother put away, and help find me a good foster home since my mother…had just disappeared.

But, when a police officer told me that was my best shot of getting my brother put away, I realized in horror that I wouldn't be able to testify. I couldn't, I just couldn't. I would never be able to send my brother to jail, no…I just couldn't do that to him.

I tried to tell Mrs. Honey that I couldn't, but she didn't understand. So I had to tell her that even though Neo had done something like this to hurt me, he'd done so much before that helped me. Mrs. Honey was reluctant, but she understood me somewhat.

The way things turned out, over the last week of ninth grade, I didn't go to school, and stayed in the care of our neighbor, Ms. Marylyn, while all the legal work was done and my brother's trial commenced. Since I didn't testify, the only evidence they had was the picture that Saura had taken. My brother didn't have to go to jail, but he wasn't allowed to see me again. He decided that he'd be moving, and the house was put up for sale.

While staying with Ms. Marylyn, I only ate about as much as you could hold in one hand. Mainly, the only thing in my stomach was water, since that kept my body from eating itself, at least to tide me over until I ate something solid, just like my old routine.

None of my friends at school came to see me, until the last day of school. Naomi came by Ms. Marylyn's house, and she had my yearbook, along with the things I'd left behind in my locker. After she gave them to me, we sat outside on the porch, and she talked to me. She said how everyone at school was talking about my brother's trial, and me. She also said, that she was sorry for not defending me when Saura hurt me, and she was sorry about my mother. I wanted to tell her it was all right, that she couldn't have done anything, but I couldn't. I couldn't say anything. Ever since my words with Mrs. Honey, I just clammed up, and didn't say a word.

Naomi didn't seem to mind though, and she just continued to sit with me. She said that Mrs. Honey had kicked Saura out of the school. She also asked me, that once the social worker Mr. Honey had hired found a foster home for me, if I'd still write to her. I nodded, and she looked relieved. Her mother had pulled up to Ms. Marylyn's house, and Naomi had to leave. Before she left, she gave me a quick embrace, and told me to take care of myself, and slipped me a small wrapped package. When I opened it after she left, I saw it was a silver chain charm bracelet. There were even jeweled charms dangling from the bracelet.

Sitting up from the bed, I absently fingered the charm bracelet Naomi had given me. I was waiting for the social worker to come and get me today. I wouldn't see Ms. Marylyn again for awhile, and if she didn't have her grandchildren visiting as often as they did, I'd worry about her. She really was a sweet old woman.

Looking over towards the small desk in the room, I walked over to it, and looked through the drawers till I found a small notepad, and a pen. I quickly scrawled a note to Ms. Marylyn. When I was done, I heard the doorbell ring, and then I heard Ms. Marylyn talking to someone, before she called me downstairs.

I grabbed my suitcase, and made sure the note was in plain sight for Ms. Marylyn, before I walked downstairs. Once I reached the bottom step, I looked up to see Ms. Marylyn and a young woman standing outside the doorway. As I stepped towards them, I studied the young woman more, and noticed that she was very pretty. She had pale skin, and bright blue eyes. Her hair was also a pretty shade of pink, and it was very long. She'd pulled it up into a ponytail though, and she dressed smartly in a navy blazer and business skirt. She dressed a lot like my mother had.

"Honey, Ms. Clyne is the social worker Mr. Honey hired to find a good home for you. She'll be taking you there now." Ms. Marylyn said quietly. She looked sad.

I nodded, and walked closer to her. Before I walked past her though, she reached out and hugged me. I wanted to hug her back, but I couldn't. I just hoped she'd find the note I left her soon. I felt Ms. Clyne put her hand on my shoulder, and begin to lead me to her car. As we walked closer towards it, I noticed a boy with light blue hair sitting in the backseat. I couldn't see him that well, but I got a better look at him when Ms. Clyne stopped us by her car and so she could take my suitcase and stick it in the trunk of her car. She then opened the back door and introduced the boy as Auel.

I then sat down in the seat next to him so Ms. Clyne could close the door. She then walked around to the front of the car, and got in on the driver's side before starting the car up. As we began to drive out of my old neighborhood, I kept my gaze straight ahead, and I didn't look over at Auel. If I did, he might want to talk, and I wouldn't be able to talk to him. I didn't want to come off as mean, but…I just couldn't say anything.

Ms. Clyne seemed to not like the silence in the car, and she turned on a CD. I recognized the band, since I had gotten the same CD from Naomi at the beginning of the year. It was a girl band, and I was a bit curious as to know if Auel actually liked the band.

After she'd watched Ms. Clyne drive off with Stellar, Ms. Marylyn had gone up to the room she'd lent to the young girl. She wanted to see if she'd left anything behind, so she'd be able to call Ms. Clyne and let her know. But, as the old woman walked past the desk, she noticed a piece of paper on the desk. Picking it up, the woman smiled to herself. It was a note from the little girl she'd known for all those years.

_Dear Ms. Marylyn,_

_I'm sorry that I couldn't say anything to you, or thank you for everything you've done for me these past few weeks. I want you to know that I'm really grateful, and sorry I couldn't tell you in person. But, though I wanted to, I wasn't able to say anything. When I get my voice back, I promise to tell you. And in person. Until then, you'll just have to wait a little while. Maybe, the next time I see you, you could show me how to make those sugar cookies I liked as a kid? Until then, take care of yourself, and those wild grandchildren of yours._

_Stellar_

**All right everyone, sorry it took so long for me to update. In truth, the recent reviews have spurred me to update it. Well, I realize I made Stellar's story a bit…long…probably longer than anything else I've ever written…lets see…14,018 words…huh…that's a lot…Anyway, I think I did a good job with Stellar's story, after all she is my favorite character from Gundam Seed Destiny (Besides Kira and Lacus) I didn't really want to have Stellar's brother do that to her, but it just made Saura's betrayal so much more emotional and also makes way for really good future chapters. I really don't want to make any chapters for anything this long ever again though, I've spent the past three days on this…ugh…my brain needs sleep… So bye everybody. Hope you like my chapter, and review.**

**Sting's chapter is next!**


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